


King's Comfort

by Lumelle



Series: The Comforted King [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Collars, Dom Bilbo Baggins, Dwarf Culture & Customs, M/M, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Content, Sub Thorin, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5360744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The consort to the King Under the Mountain has some very specific duties. Of course, Thorin would not demand such things of Bilbo, knowing that hobbits are quite different in their ways, but fortunately, it seems Bilbo has no problem putting his collar on Thorin.</p><p>He also has no problem with seeing to Thorin's other needs, much to both of their satisfaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Consent

**Author's Note:**

> **Please note** that this fic involves a dom/sub relationship based on cultural expectations, though everything happens with mutual consent. Also, while the first two chapters will be rated general, I expect the rating to go to Mature by the third chapter. Additional tags will appear as they become relevant. Please read accordingly.

The sad thing was, Thorin wasn't entirely surprised to realise someone was already in his rooms when he entered.

Shortly after the battle it had been a matter of course, with only parts of the mountain open and safe for inhabitants and fuel running short. It would have been utterly wasteful to clear and warm a set of rooms for each of them, and besides he'd needed some attention for his injuries anyway, so he had ended up sharing rooms with his nephews and Bilbo of all people, the hobbit insisting he'd earn his keep by looking after them because he didn't have the strength or skills to aid in the rebuilding. As though Bilbo would ever have to worry about earning his place in the mountain.

Now winter was turning into spring, and they both needed less heating and had more resources, so the Company had spread out further, though they still all had quarters somewhat close to each other. However, it seemed they had all decided that Thorin's rooms were an appropriate place to gather whenever they had the slightest inkling of a reason. It was where Balin and Dori would discuss their dealings with the newly restored guilds, where Dwalin and Fíli drafted guard schedules, where Bilbo and Ori met for a quiet moment of reading. It had even become the place where Kíli would hide when he got too tired of veiled comments about his choice of a mate, and wasn't the world truly coming to an end when Thorin's rooms were considered a safe place from anyone judging his love for an elf. All in all, he was quite used to seeing people in his rooms even as he only just arrived.

Even so, he halted as he walked in one day in the late spring and found Bilbo in his receiving room, quite alone, fiddling with a golden circle.

It wasn't even that unusual for Bilbo to be there, whether or not Thorin was present. He had only nominally moved out in the first place, given that by the time there had been rooms available Thorin had finally managed to get his words straight and make it clear he would quite like to court the brave little hobbit, if it pleased Bilbo, and would a wedding the following Durin's Day be quite agreeable? Bilbo had been quite happy to go along with this, much to Thorin's relief, given that he really wouldn't have known what to do if Bilbo had rejected him. Spent the rest of his life moping, perhaps, not that he needed to consider that now. The point being, it was not very strange to find Bilbo waiting for him.

The golden circle in his hands, though, that was new.

He hadn't seen it since long before the fall of Erebor, but it still tugged at some of his oldest memories. The simple golden band, studded here and there with gemstones, with a hinge hidden beneath one of the decorations at the front and a fixing at the back that could be closed with a lock as desired. It was a beautiful thing despite its apparent simplicity, the result of the best of dwarven workmanship to be sure, and seeing it in Bilbo's hands made his heart very nearly stutter to a halt.

"Thorin." Bilbo looked up, and his eyes didn't betray anything beyond a most neutral welcome. "I expected you to return earlier."

"As did I, but that was not to be." Thorin tried to affect nonchalance as he walked to the nearest seat, dropping down in it. "The negotiations with the miners' guild ran longer than I expected."

"You should make sure they finish in time. You are leading the conversation, are you not?"

"There's little I can do when others can't come to an agreement. I finally told them all to leave and not bother me again until they have something finished for me to approve or not, and not squabble over the terms in front of me." He sighed, hoping his tension did not show too much. "I hope your day was better?"

"It was good, thank you. I had a rather… interesting… talk with Balin."

"Oh?" Of course it would be Balin. "About what?"

"About what my duties will be once we marry." Bilbo paused, looking at the circlet he was holding. "Only, there was one thing he would not explain, just handed me this and told me to ask you."

"Right." It wasn't that strange, really. He could see how that would be awkward for Balin to address. "The King's Comfort."

"That's what he mentioned, yes." Bilbo glanced at him. "What is that about, then?"

"It's really quite simple at its most basic level." He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "The consort being titled the King's Comfort means that inside the royal chambers, it's the consort who has the final say in everything, even things such as when the king should eat or sleep. It's supposed to help them make sure the king is taken care of and doesn't neglect himself." Thorin gave a small, lopsided smile. "I suppose whoever started the practice was very familiar with my line."

"I would say so, indeed." Bilbo's eyes remained on the collar he was turning between his hands. "You said that's the most basic level, though. Does that mean it's not necessarily all it may be?"

"The idea of it can be… extended." Right. Now how could he word this so Bilbo wouldn't just flee from the conversation? "I remember the way my parents were when I was young. Of course my father was no king yet, but he was married, and my mother was quite happy to see to her duties already. He needed it, too; it was no easy feat, being the crown prince under Thrór, especially when his madness began to rise. Many times my father would come home angry or tired, but my mother wouldn't stand for that. She'd… give him orders, is the best I can put it. It could be just small things, like telling him to sit down, but it was always in this firm tone of voice, not a request at all. Sometimes he resisted, but eventually he always did as she told him. And it… I don't know. Somehow it seemed like all his worries just melted away. In no time she'd be combing through his hair and humming and he was entirely relaxed."

"That seems, ah. A bit counterintuitive, I guess? Why would it relax him to do as she says after he'd been under pressure the entire day?"

"I asked my father the same, the day he finally took me aside and explained it all to me. He said it was because of the responsibility. Once he got home, he knew he didn't have to make decisions or choices anymore. At the very least she would make sure he got food and rest, and if he was particularly stressed, she would notice and take over entirely so he didn't have to worry about anything, not even the most basic things. It was all about taking care of him, not bossing him around." He paused, thinking back to the conversation he'd had so long ago. "My father suspected it had a part in Thrór's madness. He didn't truly succumb to it until after my grandmother died. Perhaps she had kept him grounded until then."

"I see." Bilbo was quiet for a moment. "He talked to you about this, then?"

"Of course. I was his eldest child and thus the heir. We all knew that when we were at home, mother's word was final, but when I was old enough that courting might be a possibility he pulled me aside to explain things. After all, if whoever I married ended up taking that duty, then I should make my choice wisely."

"I suppose he didn't advise you to marry a hobbit, though."

"He didn't say anything either way about such matters." Thorin offered Bilbo a faint smile. "What he did say was that I should find someone who was not afraid of speaking up when I was wrong, and would not back down even if I was being difficult. Someone I could trust with every fibre of my being, who would want to keep me happy and safe and take care of me. Someone I could still trust to back down if I told them to, who wouldn't push me beyond my limits."

Bilbo frowned at that. "What did he mean by that?"

"The way he explained it, giving up control can be a straining experience for all that it is also liberating. Sometimes it can get too much, and a good King's Comfort will back down when that happens, or when they are asked to." He paused, not sure if he should continue, but then decided Bilbo had the right to know everything in this case, as it rather directly concerned him. "Of course, after I grew up, I heard some stories suggesting that wasn't all of it."

"Stories such as what?"

"That sometimes, such control and obedience might also extend to, ah, the bedroom. That there might even be restraints or punishments if orders were not properly followed." He couldn't quite face Bilbo right now, not meet his gaze. "I don't know how much of that is true and how much is just people spreading gossip about the royals and their strange ways, though. I certainly never saw evidence of such with my parents, but then I doubt they would have let any such things out of the bedroom anyway."

"Right." Bilbo's voice almost wavered, there, and it made Thorin's heart clench. "And… is that something you want? Something you'd need from me?"

"I need you." And that, that at least was true in every detail. "I won't ask for anything you're not willing to do. I know that being the King's Comfort is no easy task, and I would not demand it of you, particularly since you aren't familiar with our ways. I've made it this far without having one, I can do without in the future as well."

"That doesn't really answer my question." As Thorin didn't answer, Bilbo spoke up again, sharper this time. "Look at me, Thorin!"

He finally turned his eyes back to Bilbo, finding him looking back, the collar held between two hands. Thorin sighed. Clearly he had not choice but to be honest. "I want what I saw my parents have," he admitted. "I want to know there's someplace I don't have to be King Under the Mountain, someone who doesn't expect me to solve everything for them. I want that safety and security, want to know that no matter what I say or do, someone will always welcome me and point me back to the right path. But I want none of that if it's not something you want as well. For the King's Comfort there has to be trust, and both sides have to agree to it, or may call it off at any time."

"Then perhaps you should let me try at least before deciding I'm not capable of such things?" Before Thorin could say anything in response, Bilbo went on. "So what's the collar about?"

"Ah. That would be my grandfather's collar; Balin probably located it in the treasure hoard." Though how he had managed to find it, Thorin couldn't imagine. They'd barely managed to move it all into secure halls, never mind going through everything. "By tradition the consort gives the king a collar to wear, and wears a smaller counterpart to show their connection, often as an earring or similar. I know that's not the way of hobbits, though, so if you want to do that, I'm sure hanging it from a necklace would be fine." His eyes traced the golden circle studded with gemstones. "It's… my father said it's a sibling to the crown. The feel of the collar is a reminder that even the king answers to someone, and that just like the collar has been given and can be taken away by the consort, the king only bears the crown at the consent of his people."

"That sounds like a nice tradition." Bilbo made a considering sound. "Am I allowed to commission one? Because I doubt I could make anything fitting myself, you would hardly want me knitting something."

"Ah. That would be quite acceptable." Thorin tried not to sound too nervous. This was going… too easily, almost. "It's supposed to be presented at the wedding at the latest, or at some point during the courtship. The wedding should leave more than enough time for a competent crafter, if you decide the design you want soon enough."

"I think I can come up with something." Bilbo smiled, now, and finally set the collar aside. "That's for another time, though. For now, could you perhaps accompany me for dinner?"

"It would be my pleasure." Thorin smiled back. "Give me a moment to get out of my formal robes?"

"Of course." Bilbo stretched himself, and Thorin had to resist the urge to simply draw him into his arms, however small and adorable he was.

There would be plenty of time for that later in the evening.

*

When the collar arrived, it was presented to him without much fanfare.

Thorin simply found it sitting at his desk one day as he returned to his quarters, settled on top of a particularly long-winded document about the mining plans. Even so, he knew precisely what it was from the moment he saw it.

It was a beautiful thing, crafted of gold and sapphires. It seemed almost delicate though even his eyes, more used to the harsher lines and heavier weights of blacksmithing, could tell even before he picked it up that it was quite sturdy enough for its purpose. A fine band of steel along the inside confirmed his suspicions. There were small engravings along the outside, fragile vines and leaves carved into the surface with fine sapphires embedded here and there for flowers. The hinge at the front was concealed behind a golden oak leaf, with a small ring hanging from the middle, just large enough to perhaps hook a finger through.

And, well, if that thought made him shiver, it wasn't like anyone was here to judge him for it.

The back of the collar made him pause, though. There were two hoops there, as though for a lock to go through, but they were too far apart for a simple padlock the kind of which he'd seen his grandfather and father wear on their collars. He traced his hand along the back of the band, trying to figure out some hidden mechanism or other surprise hidden there.

"Do you like it?"

He didn't start at the sudden voice, but it was a near thing. Instead, he turned around, holding the collar in his hands. "Bilbo." He smiled. "It is beautiful."

"I hoped you'd enjoy it." Bilbo walked closer, and it was now that Thorin noticed a glint of gold at his ear. Was that really…

"You — you're wearing it on your ear." He absolutely hadn't expected that. For all that Bilbo seemed fascinated by Thorin's own piercings, he hadn't really thought Bilbo would get one himself. From what he'd understood, in the Shire only lasses would have piercings, and then only on their ears.

"Ah. I thought it was appropriate." Bilbo looked a bit sheepish as he touched the golden loop hanging from one leaf-shaped ear, fine gold with tiny sapphires along its length. It was clear he still felt somewhat awkward about it, but that hint of gold against his beautiful curls made Thorin's mouth go dry. "You like that?"

"It looks beautiful on you." Thorin smiled, then glanced down at the collar in his hands. "Ah. I was wondering about something, though."

"What's that?" Bilbo reached out to touch one of Thorin's hands, his fingers warm and sure.

"The lock hoops. They are a bit far apart, are they not?"

"Ah, right." Bilbo reached into his pocket, now, and drew out a fine golden chain, with a slightly larger link at each end, and a fine golden padlock. "It's the chain that will be threaded through there, not the lock itself. Fíli and I spent a while finding a chain strong enough to do the job but fine enough that it can be broken if needed." He met Thorin's eyes directly, his gaze sure and firm. "I will put this on you, and lock this for you, because that's what you want. But you can break it off any time you wish, because, well. As you said, both of us should agree to this."

"That… that sounds like an excellent idea." Thorin swallowed, unsure what to say for a moment, then blinked as something else Bilbo had said caught up with him. "Wait. Fíli? You discussed this with Fíli?"

"Well, of course." Bilbo's smile turned a bit mischievous. "After all, he's the one who made it in the first place."

"Fíli did?" Thorin turned the collar in his arms with renewed admiration, now. He'd already decided it was excellent work, but knowing just who had crafted it made him even more impressed. He'd seen Fíli's work before, of course, but then Fíli had never had the opportunity to work so freely with fine materials. Small pieces from what few resources they'd had back in Ered Luin or fixing old jewelry did not come even close to something like this made from scratch with precisely the kind of gemstones he wanted. "This is amazing work."

"He worked really hard on it, too." Bilbo's lips twitched. "He didn't seem to wonder much when I told him I needed a collar for you to wear."

"He would know about that, at least. A married king wears a collar, everyone knows that, even if not everyone may know the details of it."

"Perhaps you should tell him, then?" Bilbo slipped the chain and lock back into his pocket, reaching out to take the collar from Thorin's hands. "I mean, you mentioned hearing the basics from your father, and dirty stories from elsewhere. Surely Fíli as your heir should know the official side of it before someone starts telling him more interesting tales?"

"I suppose I should." Not that he was looking forward to it, but Bilbo was right, it was high time he had a talk with Fíli. "Ah. Will you put it on me?" After all, that was how this was supposed to go.

"As soon as you get a bit lower down to make things easier for me." Obviously this was Thorin's cue to kneel down in front of Bilbo. Bilbo paused for a moment, looking down at him, before stepping around him. "Take your hair out of the way?"

Thorin reached his hands under his hair, lifting it out of the way as Bilbo opened the collar and set it around his neck, a snug fit but not too tight at all. He then let his hair fall over one shoulder in favour of lifting one hand to hold the collar in place so Bilbo had both hands free for threading in the chain and attaching the lock.

The small lock clicked shut with the kind of finality Thorin usually associated with heady stone doors closing grand chambers deep in the mountain. However, even as he took away his hand and Bilbo removed his, the collar around his throat was no heavy burden, making him feel secure rather than trapped.

"Stand up." Bilbo's voice was soft as he circled over to Thorin's front, waiting for him to stand before setting a hand on his chest, fingertips just barely brushing his throat next to the cold line of the collar. "It looks good on you."

"It feels good, too." Thorin offered Bilbo a small smile. "This should make things clear to anyone who might have doubted our relationship. Now none can question who I belong to."

"Indeed." Bilbo sneaked his finger through the ring at the front, just as Thorin had imagined, and drew him down for a kiss. Thorin didn't even think of resisting, leaning in easily and cherishing the feel of Bilbo's mouth on his. "You are mine, Thorin Oakenshield. And I will gladly remind anyone who forgets that, even if it might be you."

"I'm not going to forget that." Certainly not now, not with gleaming gold and cold steel pressing against his throat just so. "I am yours, to my death and beyond."

"I suppose that's good for a start." Bilbo let go and stepped back, his smile getting a touch wider. "Now, how about we go and have a nice, hot bath? I need to practice my braiding anyway."

"That sounds like an excellent plan." Thorin offered his hand to Bilbo, who took it with a grin. "Shall we, then, my dear hobbit?"

Yes. This just might work. This night, this arrangement, this marriage he was about to enter.

And he was certainly going to cherish every moment of it.


	2. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is tired and frustrated after a long day of working. However, Bilbo has a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place some weeks after the end of the first chapter, but still before they get married.

Thorin was going to kill someone.

Now, this was hardly a unique feeling for him. There had been many times in his life when he had been very determined to end some lives, and indeed he had felled more enemies than he could count. However, this was not the rage he felt when entering a grand battle, not even the fierce determination of protecting those who were his. This desire was born out of sheer, enduring frustration of dealing with the latest delegation from Iron Hills.

If this was what dealing with him was like, he owed a big apology to every single friend and family member he had. And possibly a couple of his enemies.

It was late in the evening, enough so that he hardly saw anyone along the corridors as he strode towards his quarters. The guards at the entrance to the royal hallways bowed respectfully as he went past, but he didn't see or hear anyone else. It seemed even his sister and nephews had retired for the night, or at least taken to their own rooms in silence. Lucky them.

Thorin sighed as he opened the door to his quarters. He would have liked nothing as much as falling into bed, but he knew he couldn't sleep, not yet. He was too wired up, his mind racing too fast over all the issues they'd been discussing. It would likely be another couple of hours at least until he could settle enough to fall asleep, which meant another exhausted day tomorrow.

Oh, the joys of being a king.

It said something about his state of mind that he'd actually managed to step inside, close the door, and take out his royal cloak before he realised someone else was in his rooms as well. As he noticed this, he started, then forced himself to relax.

"Bilbo! I didn't expect you to be here." Not that Bilbo didn't spend a lot of time in his quarters, of course, but it was still rare for him to be there without Thorin. They weren't married yet, not for another few weeks, and it wasn't like he didn't have his own rooms to stay in.

Bilbo lifted his eyebrows, hands resting on the book he had been reading. "Really? That's funny. I would have thought you would expect me here, considering you were supposed to eat dinner with me."

Thorin froze, then sighed. "I'm sorry, Bilbo. It completely slipped my mind. I know that's no excuse, but I've been so wrapped up in these stupid negotiations, I can hardly remember my own name half the time."

"No, I think that's understandable." Bilbo very carefully set a bookmark between the pages and closed the book with great care before setting it aside and standing up from Thorin's couch. "What I don't understand is why you allowed them to drag on this long."

"I would ask if you've ever tried arguing with a dwarf, but I already know the answer." Thorin gave a wry smile. "They'll agree to nothing unless they've gone over the terms with a fine-toothed comb, and even then they'll argue over every last point to their last breath. You would think it to be a simple matter — they have goods, we have gold, we would like to trade the two — but damn if they don't seem determined to haggle over every last detail, even the ones that are clearly in their favour."

"That does sound exhausting." Bilbo shook his head. "Have you reached any conclusion yet?"

"Basically? They're returning to Iron Hills tomorrow so Dáin can look over the new terms. Which is ridiculous, I know my cousin well enough to know that Dáin doesn't give a damn as long as they get a fair price, but it's another stalling technique and they're determined to use it."

"Then how about this? Next time they arrive, give them a time limit to reach a conclusion. If they don't, you'll settle the terms personally with Dáin when he comes over for the wedding. I rather suspect they'll be a lot more agreeable so they can still say they settled the trade agreement instead of handing the honour over to the king."

"I do like it when you're devious, my dear hobbit." Thorin took off his crown, now, setting it on the small table that had become its home when he was in his rooms. "I am still sorry for missing our dinner."

"As you should be." Bilbo stepped closer, his hands running across the front of Thorin's royal robes before they took a tight grip on the rich fabric. "Take this off."

"Bilbo?" Thorin lifted his eyebrows. Not that he wasn't amenable to undressing in front of his hobbit, but this was rather more direct than he was used to.

"You heard me." Now, a hand slid up, one finger curling through the ring at the front of his collar, and the way Thorin swallowed had nothing to do with the tug Bilbo gave said collar. It almost seemed like there was a shift in the way Bilbo carried himself, for all that he didn't actually change his position that much. "These robes, your surcoat, take off all this unnecessary fuss and be quick about it. I want you seated at the table in your tunic and trousers in five minutes."

"Right." Bilbo let go of the ring, now, yet Thorin was suddenly very aware of the golden collar around his neck, of the steel band that lined the inside of it.

"What was that?" Bilbo gave him a sharp gaze, now, as though challenging him to argue.

Thorin knew better. "Yes, Master."

This seemed to satisfy Bilbo, who swept away, leaving Thorin standing in his own receiving room feeling somewhat like an intruder. After a moment's pause, though, he hurried to do as he'd been told, stripping off his heavy boots and all the various layers his formal clothes included. He wasn't entirely sure he made it in five minutes, but Bilbo nodded nevertheless when Thorin finally arrived in the small kitchen that was part of his rooms.

"Jewelry, too. All those rings, and any unnecessary beads and clasps, too. You can keep the one holding your courtship braid, everything else comes out right now."

"Everything?" This somewhat surprised Thorin. It wasn't like he'd never been without his braids in front of Bilbo, but it wasn't a common occurrence unless he was just redoing them, and quite a few of his more elaborate braids were sure to unravel without anything holding them together.

"Was I being unclear?" The look on Bilbo's face was clear. He could try to question this, but he was going to lose either way.

"No, Master." He took off his rings, first, the thick golden jewelled ones he never could have afforded during their exile, then picked out the various beads and clasps in his elaborate braids. Bilbo watched him the whole time as he lay one trinket after another on the table, then finally swept them all into a pouch he had ready at hand.

"You don't need any of these in here." Bilbo set the pouch on the corner of a shelf, then turned back to Thorin. "Sit down."

He obeyed almost without thinking, seating himself in one of the chairs set around his small table. Bilbo nodded, then placed a loose-toothed comb on the table. "Work the braids properly open. You're taking a bath after this, and I won't have you getting your hair all tangled up while washing it."

Thorin almost protested, but a look from Bilbo made him fall quiet. Bilbo started fussing about the kitchen while Thorin worked on unravelling his braids. Just as he had unravelled the last one Bilbo set an assortment of plates in front of him. Bread and butter, cold cuts, cheese, and a bowl of soup he must have reheated, as it was steaming, now. It was certainly an adequate dinner for his very empty stomach, which hadn't been properly filled since lunch time, if even then.

"Eat all of it," Bilbo said as he set a large mug of ale next to the food. "And don't argue with me. I know damn well you don't eat proper portions most of the time. Making do with less might have been sensible and heroic and self-sacrificing back when you had to scrape together every coin and there still wasn't enough food to go around. Now that you're sitting on piles of gold and trade is coming in, leaving yourself hungry is just stupid."

Thorin frowned. "I do not need this much."

"I've been reliably informed you're too thin for a dwarf, by Óin and your sister both, so I've decided I need to feed you more. Goodness knows my dear old mother would drag herself out of her grave and all the way here just to swat me upside the head if she knew I've been neglecting feeding my lover." Bilbo clicked his tongue. "Now, eat. I'll be back soon, and you'd better still be in that chair when I return."

And, well, it wasn't like Thorin had much of a choice, here. He started eating slowly, then picked up the pace when he realised just how ravenous he was. He finished before Bilbo returned, and contemplated for a moment going to look for him, before he remembered Bilbo's last words. He was to stay in his seat.

It should have annoyed him, being essentially trapped here until Bilbo chose to return, unless he wanted to defy Bilbo and probably start an argument. Instead, he felt almost… relieved. There was still a lot he could have done tonight, paperwork and other such things, and at the very least he should have taken care of his dishes. However, he couldn't, because Bilbo had told him to stay right here, and therefore it wasn't his fault if he wasn't doing any of those things. And as long as Thorin wore his collar, Bilbo's word was law within these rooms.

He traced the surface of the collar with his fingers. It was such delicate work, yet more than strong enough for Bilbo to pull him around by it if he wished. Fíli had certainly done a good job with it.

It felt very secure around his throat in the best ways.

He was still contemplating the collar when Bilbo decided to finally return. Bilbo had taken off the jacket and waistcoat he had been wearing earlier, wearing only a shirt and trousers, both simple and somewhat hobbit-ish in cut yet in the best fabrics they had managed to trade for, a far cry from the worn things Bilbo'd had left after their journey. For a moment Bilbo stood in the doorway, just watching him, before he strode over to Thorin with surprising determination, finger curling through the ring on his collar as he leaned down for a deep kiss.

Thorin had been kissed before, of course. He'd been kissed by Bilbo, too, and kissed him in turn, had exchanged some very passionate embraces with his beloved. Even so, he couldn't quite recall Bilbo ever kissing him with such possessiveness, one hand holding onto the collar, the other tangled in Thorin's hair to tilt his head back. He should have protested, really, should have disliked giving up control even in such a small matter. Instead, he let Bilbo stay in charge of the kiss, let himself be left breathless as Bilbo finally drew back, licking his own lips.

"I rather like you sitting down like this. Makes up for all that unnecessary height." Bilbo smirked, then tugged at the ring again. "Stand up."

Thorin did as he was told, following along as Bilbo strode out of the kitchen, still holding onto the collar. He wasn't too surprised as Bilbo led him to the bathroom, where a hot bath had already been drawn. Clearly this was what Bilbo had been busy with while Thorin was eating.

"Strip." Well, that was simple enough an order. Bilbo finally let go of the collar and stepped back as Thorin quickly took off the rest of his clothes. He shivered as cold air hit his skin, then glanced at Bilbo, who was still dressed.

"You're not joining me?" Okay, so perhaps he was the slightest bit teasing in his tone.

"Not this time, I'm afraid. I already had one earlier." Bilbo shook his head, lips twitching into a smile. "Get in the bath, Thorin. It's been days since you had a proper one, and frankly you're starting to stink."

"Wouldn't want to offend your sensitive little hobbit nose, then." Thorin snorted, but got in the bath as instructed. It was a relief to be sure, sinking into the hot, welcoming water. He could practically feel the tension still lingering in his body ebbing away little by little.

Bilbo let him enjoy the heat for a moment before instructing him to wash. It was rather too detailed, really, it wasn't like Thorin didn't know how to wash himself after all these years, but somehow listening to Bilbo's calm voice and following the simple instructions helped him clear his mind. Nothing else mattered right now. As long as he did precisely what Bilbo told him to, that was enough.

Bilbo did help him with washing his hair, sleeves rolled up as he poured water from a bowl over Thorin's head. Once Thorin was done washing and rinsing, Bilbo told him to step out, handing him a large towel. "Dry yourself and go to the bedroom. I have clothes set out for you."

Again, Thorin did as he was instructed, knowing better than to annoy Bilbo by tracking water outside the bathroom. When he made it to the bedroom, nice and dry, he found an undershirt and a pair of breeches laid out on the bed, ready for him. There was something else, too — a length of ribbon, perhaps a yard and a half, certainly too long for hair.

"What's this for?" he asked as Bilbo came in again, heading to Thorin's dressing table. "If you mean for me to tie my hair back, this is far too long."

"Good thing that's not what it's used for, isn't it?" Bilbo gathered a comb and a brush from the dressing table, then stepped closer, taking the ribbon from Thorin's hand. With deft fingers he threaded it through the ring on Thorin's collar, securing it in place with a simple knot. It would be easy enough to take off, but Thorin doubted it would do so by accident.

"I'm to be on a leash, now?"

"You're to be wherever I want you to be." Bilbo tugged at the ribbon. "Come on."

Thorin followed Bilbo again, this time to the receiving room. For a moment he almost hesitated, glancing towards the door; it was one thing to wear Bilbo's collar, and quite another to have someone barge in for some emergency or another and find him quite literally leashed by his future consort. Bilbo must have noticed his hesitation, as he shook his head.

"Don't worry. I made sure one of the guards is at the door, and they are under strict orders not to let anyone in. And before you say anything, I already told your sister and nephews that you are unavailable tonight, so they won't be coming in either." Because Mahal knew a mere guard would not stop Dís or the princes.

"Right." He relaxed a little. Sure, there would be teasing about Bilbo keeping him busy, but there was teasing about that anyway. It wasn't like he was ashamed of his love. "What do you want me to do now?"

"Here." Bilbo tugged Thorin towards his harp, which he realised had been moved. His usual chair was next to it, but the chair was right within reach of the couch. Bilbo directed him to sit down, then tied the other end of the ribbon to the frame of the harp. Again, the knot was firm but simple enough to open as needed. "I'm going to work through your hair, and you're going to play for me. If I'm going to be wrestling with all this hair, the least I should get in return is some entertainment."

"As you wish." Well, this was an easy request to fulfil. He hadn't had much time for practising his playing lately, so he started with a few simple melodies, getting his fingers familiar with the strings again while Bilbo settled on the couch and started working through his hair with his comb and brush.

It was calming, having someone brush his hair, the sensation pleasing his physical side while the task of remembering and reproducing melodies chased away all other thoughts from his mind. He was barely even aware that he started humming at some point, the humming turning to singing after a while, though he kept his voice low. One song and then another, again and again, while Bilbo's sure hands brushed his hair, a soothing rhythm that lulled him to something almost like a daze.

"Thorin." He blinked, suddenly realising someone was touching his hand. Bilbo, then, his small hand curled about Thorin's wrist, gentle but undeniably there. "Thorin, time to stop."

"Right." He yawned, surprising even himself at how close to sleep he felt. The tension that had been running through both his mind and body was gone, leaving behind only a kind of languid, bone-deep exhaustion that was threatening to take over. "What do I do?"

"Now, my love, we go to bed." Bilbo pressed a kiss to Thorin's forehead, quickly untying the ribbon from the harp. "Stand up, Thorin."

Thorin stood up as he was told, following easily as Bilbo tugged at the ribbon once again. He was only vaguely aware that they headed to the bedroom, not even realising Bilbo had woven his hair into a loose braid for sleeping before he reached his hands up to tie his hair back only to find it already done for him. Bilbo untied the ribbon from his collar, dropping it on the dressing table before changing for bed himself, shirt and trousers making way for a perfectly respectable nightshirt. Thorin wasn't sure since when Bilbo had started keeping some spare clothes in Thorin's rooms, but he wasn't about to argue. It made things much easier until they married and Bilbo officially moved in.

"Come to bed," Bilbo said, his voice soft but clear enough to Thorin's ears. "Come to bed, and sleep."

This, Thorin decided, was an order he was quite happy to follow.

*

Thorin woke up with the slightly groggy feeling of one who has slept longer than they are accustomed to, blinking at the ceiling. Not that this said much, given that what he was accustomed to was not nearly enough sleep, but he felt disoriented anyway, and certain he was late for something important.

Well. He was nearly always late for something important, anyway.

Bilbo was asleep next to him, curled up under the covers with only a little bit of his curls showing up. Thorin smiled and gave his hair an affectionate ruffle before he sat up, stretching and yawning. As lovely as it would have been to remain, he did have things to attend to.

"Mmm… what?" Bilbo crawled out of the covers just enough to peer around, though his eyes didn't quite meet Thorin just yet. "Thorin?"

"Just go back to sleep, Bilbo." He leaned down for a quick kiss just because he could. "I'm heading out, now; with some luck I should be able to make it back in time for dinner tonight."

"No."

Thorin frowned. "What do you mean, no?" Had Bilbo taken so much offence at his lateness that he wouldn't give Thorin another chance at dinner? Not that Thorin could truly blame him, but he would be rather disappointed anyway. He enjoyed sharing proper dinner with Bilbo when he could.

Bilbo finally turned to look at him, blinking sleepily up at him from beneath messy curls. "I mean that no, you're not going anywhere. Now get back down here."

"Bilbo, I do actually have to work, you know. There's the meeting with the guild heads, and open court this afternoon, and then I have to —"

"No, no, and no." Bilbo yawned, and really, he'd never seen something as adorable in his life. "You don't have to work today, I arranged everything yesterday. Dís is meeting with the heads of guilds, I made sure she has your notes for that, and frankly with her in charge it's less likely to end in actual bloodshed. As for the open court, Fíli will be in charge of that."

"What?" He must have heard wrong. "Fíli can't do that!"

"Of course he can. I checked with Balin, and the crown prince is just as qualified to pass judgement as you are. He's watched you do it often enough, and he'll have both Balin and Ori with him if he forgets some detail of the law. Besides, he needs the practice. You should be giving him more to do anyway. Both Balin and Dís agree with me that he's quite capable of simple tasks, and having him do some of them would ease your own duties."

"Right." Thorin still felt somewhat dubious, but after a moment he sank back into bed. "I do still have paperwork to attend to, though. And that can't be delegated, there are a lot of things that need my seal and signature." Not that he would have put it past Balin to learn to forge his signature as needed.

"Sure, sure. But I also checked with Balin about that, and he said none of them actually need to be finished today."

"You really are a devious little creature, aren't you?" Thorin huffed as Bilbo crawled half on top of his chest.

"You enjoy it, just admit it." Bilbo pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to his lips, and then another right at the edge of his collar. For some reason the second kiss felt even more intimate than the first one, making Thorin shiver. "Now, get some more sleep. I made sure breakfast will be brought in later than usual."

Well. Clearly he had no other choice, here. It was such a terrible chore, playing pillow to his beloved hobbit, but somehow he would have to endure.

Thorin was asleep again before he could truly finish that thought.


	3. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is annoyed at the way Thorin has been acting. Clearly, it's time to remind him who he belongs to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after they've been married for some time. **Please note** that this chapter contains sexual content (as reflected by the rating). Please read accordingly.

"And what exactly was that about?"

"I have no idea what you mean." Thorin did his best to stay calm, walking further into their rooms. Sure, Bilbo had apparently chosen to whirl on him the moment the door closed behind them, but he saw that as no reason to rise to the bait.

"Oh, as though you don't know." Bilbo was clearly fuming, and, well, that wasn't very good. "You think I didn't see them? Twirling their braids and tugging at their moustaches and doing bloody well everything to get you to look at them. And you just smiled and nodded and gave them all the attention they could wish for."

"Are you actually angry because I was social at the party?" Thorin lifted his eyebrows. "I thought you specifically told me not to stand in a corner looking all intimidating."

"Surely there's some middle ground between doing that and flirting with anything that looks your way!" Now, that was ridiculous. Clearly Thorin hadn't been flirting, he'd just tried to affect polite interest.

"You're being jealous." He didn't even bother to frame it as a question; it seemed clear enough to him. "You're actually jealous because I was speaking with people at a party."

"Of course I'm bloody jealous! You're my husband, not some bull at the market for them to pick up as they please! And don't even try to argue with that. Regardless of what you may or may not have done, which looked an awful lot like flirting mind you, you can't deny that a lot of them were actively trying to get their hands on you. Like that one delegate from Iron Hills, with the blue beard, he'd have dropped to his knees right in front of everyone if you'd just said a word!"

"You know it doesn't matter what offers they might make, I wouldn't ever take any of them up on it." He never would, could not insult Bilbo so. This was his consort, his beloved, his One.

"I know that, and I hope you know that. Them, though? I'm not so convinced they know that." Bilbo stepped closer, still just out of reach. "You are mine, Thorin. My husband, my king, you wear my braids and my beads and my bloody collar, but none of that matters to them because I'm not a dwarf!"

"Do you think so?" Thorin frowned. That was not a good thing. "If you wish, it would be my delight to remind them that I expect as much respect for you as I do for myself. If anyone would think less of you for your race, they are not welcome in my mountain."

"A bit late for that, don't you think?"

"Bilbo." He softened his voice, now, hoping to soothe his husband's ire. "You know I never would have another. I couldn't, even if I somehow had the inclination. You are my One, the only one I could ever love. If they cannot see that, it's they who are blind."

"It'd be nice if you could sometimes remember that, too." Bilbo paused for a moment. Then, just as Thorin was about to speak, Bilbo said one more word, his voice firm and unyielding. "Undress."

Thorin blinked. "Excuse me?" He was still standing in the middle of the receiving room, not exactly a place where Bilbo usually approved of discarded clothes.

"You heard me." Bilbo didn't waver, hands set on his hips as he glared up at Thorin. "Undress, now. I want to see every last piece of clothing currently on you in a neat pile in five minutes, no arguments. Then you're going to go to the bedroom and wait for me there."

He should have protested, should have hesitated at least. This was hardly an appropriate place for him to get naked, separated from the hallway by a single door. But then, nobody but the royal family could get to the hallway without permission, and it wasn't like Dís or the boys hadn't seen him naked before.

Besides, he trusted Bilbo, trusted him to keep him safe. Which was why he was already starting to undo the various clasps and buckles on his outfit before he'd even truly finished the thought.

Bilbo stood a few steps away from him the whole time, eyes intent on him. Thorin might have felt awkward under his gaze, except, well, it was Bilbo. Bilbo had seen everything about him before, had seen him naked in body and mind both, and he hadn't turned away yet. And really, there wasn't anything he didn't want Bilbo to see. Not Bilbo, not his consort, his sole comfort.

He did as he was told and neatly folded each piece of clothing, stacking them up in a neat pile. Bilbo kept watching him the whole time, silent. A part of Thorin wanted to linger when he was done, to see if he could get some reaction out of Bilbo, but he had his instructions and he was going to follow them.

He could still feel Bilbo's eyes on his back as he walked out of the room.

Thorin felt oddly exposed as he went to the bedroom, which didn't make much sense. After all, there were few more natural places for him to be naked than his own bedroom. Even so, entering it in such a manner made him feel every bit of the cool air on his bare skin, the cold floor under his feet, the brush of the furs and blankets on the bed against his leg as he walked by. Even the fall of his hair around his shoulders seemed to tease every bit of his skin in a way it never did otherwise.

Of course, part of it was probably the fact he was waiting for Bilbo to come to him. That did always excite him so.

He had been given no further instructions, besides wait in the room, so he tended the fireplace while he did. It would hardly do for them to get cold, after all. He'd just got a nice fire going when he heard the door opening.

Thorin looked up, and found Bilbo walking into the room. He had cast off his jacket and waistcoat, leaving him in his trousers and shirt. In his hands he was carrying several lengths of deep blue ribbon. The sight of that made Thorin shiver. He knew very well what Bilbo liked to use such ribbons for.

"Hmm, well done. I do like a good fire." Bilbo smiled at him, and Thorin felt pleased at his choice. Clearly he'd made the right decision, here. "Get on the bed."

"Right." Thorin walked to their shared bed, climbing on it. "How do you want me?"

"Lie down on your back. Arms and legs spread." Bilbo, in the meantime, walked over to the dresser, no doubt to get some more supplies.

Thorin obeyed him, lying in the middle of the bed with his arms and legs spread as far as he could. It was familiar enough a position, though not something Bilbo chose for him very often. As he looked over, Bilbo was taking out familiar leather cuffs, each equipped with a small buckle and a ring on the other side. Thorin had made them himself, to Bilbo's specifications, and knew very well how sturdy they were.

They'd put them to use more than once, after all.

Bilbo climbed on the bed next to him, putting on each cuff and fastening them with the ease of practice. Thorin didn't move, didn't try to resist, allowing Bilbo to cuff his wrists and ankles. Next came the ribbons, one end tied to a post at each corner of the bed, the others fastened in the rings on the cuffs, one in each. As usual, Bilbo made sure to tie the ribbons in such a manner that tugging at the loose end would easily open the knot, leaving one such end long enough that he could easily give it over to Thorin to hold in his hand.

"If you want to be free, at any time, just tug at this." Bilbo leaned down to press a kiss to Thorin's cheek, just above where his beard started. "Are you comfortable?"

"Very." Thorin gave him a small nod. He was, too. Bilbo was always very conscientious of how he tied Thorin up. He'd been quite hesitant the first time he'd done it, but they had found it was rather pleasant for both of them when Bilbo wanted to take the lead. For one thing, Thorin didn't have to worry about whether he was pleasing his hobbit properly — after all, there was little he could do like this besides lie down and let Bilbo find pleasure for both of them.

This didn't mean Thorin never took charge in bed, of course. He did so when it suited them both, and liked to think of himself as quite the skilled lover when the situation called for it. However, right now Bilbo was asserting his control, and Thorin was quite happy to let him do so.

"Very well." Bilbo got off the bed, now, and started undressing at last. Thorin enjoyed the show, eyes roaming over every bit of soft skin that was revealed to him. It was lovely to see his hobbit like this, so at ease even as he shed his clothes, folding each piece primly and setting it aside before moving on.

There was some roundness to Bilbo's stomach and hips that warmed Thorin inside to see. Bilbo had lost most of his hobbit softness on the road, but he was regaining it all now that they had proper food and enough rest. Of course this pleased Thorin, any dwarf would have been pleased to know they could provide for their partner enough to make them stocky and sturdy as was appropriate, and this went double for Thorin given that his partner was a hobbit. This was how Bilbo was supposed to be, all soft lines and curves instead of the hard planes and angles of Thorin's own body, and he was so beautiful, Thorin wasn't sure he could take it all.

Then Bilbo walked over to him again, brandishing a soft piece of cloth. "Lift your head from the bed."

Thorin did as he was told, and Bilbo wrapped the cloth around his head, tying a knot to the side where it would not press into his head. He'd folded it over a few times, Thorin suspected, the thick folds covering Thorin's eyes. He could see some slivers of light around the edges, but nothing that could tell him what was happening around him. This wasn't the darkness of the mines, where at least he could trust his sense of the stone to guide him right, nor was it the shadows of a room where the lights had gone out, where his dwarven eyes could still make out some outlines even when other races might have been blinded. All he could do was listen to the sounds of Bilbo moving away from him and around the room, opening a drawer somewhere, then crossing over somewhere else to do something there.

It should have been worrying, terrifying even, to find himself bare and exposed and with nothing but his ears to trust in observing his surroundings. The part of him that had fought in wars and battles for far too many years protested at such treatment, wanted to escape, to see what was going on. The longer this unknowing darkness stretched on, the stronger this part of him grew, trying to drive him into action. It would have been easy, he knew as much. All he needed to do was tug at the ribbon to free one of his wrists, then use his freed hand to take away the blindfold, perhaps open the rest of the knots and be free and ready to defend himself against the imagined threats his mind was summoning up from his darker memories.

He didn't do any such thing, of course. He trusted Bilbo, trusted Bilbo to keep him safe and secure, to take care of him when he could not take care of himself. Bilbo would not allow anything to hurt him, and he trusted that, knew that to be as true as the familiar ring of the collar around his neck.

There was movement next to him again, and then the sound of someone crawling across the sheets. He could feel the heat radiating from Bilbo's skin right next to his side, then the much clearer feeling of a hand running along his chest. Bilbo took his time, teasing the curls covering most of Thorin's chest, pausing at one of his nipples, making Thorin gasp a little as Bilbo's clever fingers tweaked the ring there, just hard enough that it didn't cross the threshold to pain. Bilbo had been fascinated the first time he had seen them, had spent what seemed like forever toying with them, enjoying the reactions he could draw from Thorin. Now he rarely devoted much time to them unless he truly wanted to tease Thorin, and for a moment it did cross Thorin's mind that he might linger there, give Thorin his punishment for what Bilbo apparently considered shameless flirting with others. Then, however, the fingers slid down, lingering for a moment at a hairless patch on his side where an old scar had left the skin both bare and rather sensitive.

Bilbo withdrew his hand, and Thorin didn't bother to stop the small sound of disappointment that escaped his lips. Bilbo liked it when Thorin voiced his reactions, had told him as much, and Thorin was happy to oblige. He restrained himself enough in the course of his duties, it was good not to have to do so with his beloved.

Something warm dropped on his skin, right where the fingers had been a moment before, and Thorin gasped. No, not warm, downright hot. It might have hurt, even, if he hadn't been quite used to dealing with heat from his time as a blacksmith. The warmth lingered where it had fallen, not moving, but dissipated quickly.

"Too much?" Bilbo's voice was little more than a murmur, but there was no way Thorin could have missed it, his ears tuned to every sound in the room as they were. Not that there was much, really. The crackling of the fire, the shuffling of movement over the bedsheets, the comforting tones of Bilbo's voice. "It's not too hot, is it? You said dwarves bear heat well, and I tested it on myself first."

"No, not too much." Thorin drew a deep breath. "I was just surprised, that's all."

"Right." Even so, Bilbo's fingers brushed right next to where the heat had cooled down to a curious warmth before the next drop of heat joined the first.

Bilbo enjoyed playing with his reactions, clearly, the drops coming at a regular enough pace but varied just enough that he could never accurately predict the fall of the next one. They all fell on the same bare patch, though, in a small concentrated area over the scar. Some of them Thorin didn't feel as much, as they settled over previous ones, while others fell a bit further from the rest and made him gasp or twitch anew.

"That's quite enough, I think." And, because Bilbo was Bilbo, this was followed by one last drop of heat. "Do you know what that is?"

"Ah." There weren't that many options, really. The material wasn't water or similar liquid, since it stayed where it fell and didn't spread. Something thicker, then, something that Bilbo could reliably heat and drop consistently enough without fearing actual injury or, say, setting the bed on fire. "Wax?"

"Indeed." There was a pressure on his side, something being pushed against where he could only imagine a patch of wax was slowly cooling down on his scar. "And that, my dear Thorin, is my seal."

"You are putting your seal on me?" That was… well. It wasn't an unpleasant thought, certainly. Bilbo had to be aware of this. If not otherwise, he could probably figure it out from the fact that Thorin's cock was very much indicating his interest, not that it had been entirely slack before.

"Seemed more practical than trying to write my name on you." Bilbo moved away now, no doubt to set the aside the candle he must have been using for dripping the wax. "Perhaps it will help you remember who you belong to."

"I could never forget." He'd forgotten it once, had forsaken his greatest treasure for the sake of gold and gems, and almost paid the highest price possible for his mistake.

"Good." Bilbo was back on the bed, now, settling himself between Thorin's legs if the faint brushes against his skin were any indication. Thorin rather expected Bilbo's hands to get on his skin, next, perhaps to tease him directly, or else to start preparing him for Bilbo to claim him further. Instead, there was silence for a moment, before he heard the sound of slick skin sliding against skin, and then a soft moan.

Thorin swallowed, his mouth feeling very dry all of a sudden. Judging by the sounds, Bilbo had chosen to attend to himself instead.

Bilbo spoke again after a moment, his voice slightly breathless. "You wish this was you, don't you? You wish — ah! — that it were your fingers inside me, teasing me, stretching me further. You always seem to like it, taking your time preparing me, driving me crazy, you stubborn fool of a dwarf…"

"Your fool, though. Always yours." He wished he could have seen Bilbo, could have watched the expression on his face reflecting his pleasure. Instead all Thorin got were the sounds, Bilbo shifting on the bed, small gasps and moans interrupting his words every now and then as he continued to speak. Thorin wasn't sure if it was all sensible, couldn't follow the thread of it anyway, too focused on the sounds that Bilbo made that weren't actual words. It was as though his whole world had narrowed down to that one small area between his legs, the flashes of warmth against his skin when Bilbo moved closer, the little sounds that gave his mind's eye plenty to watch even though his eyes could not see the no doubt delicious sight of Bilbo preparing himself for Thorin's cock with those clever quick fingers of his.

Then Bilbo fell quiet, the words coming to a stop, and all Thorin could hear was him shuffling away, the warmth of his proximity fading into a cold silence. Thorin couldn't help but make a small sound of distress. He didn't want Bilbo to go, didn't want Bilbo to leave him behind. He needed Bilbo, needed him close and warm and comforting, needed to know that Bilbo was there and taking care of him.

Bilbo was at his side in a flash, a hand running along his arm and across his chest, warm and familiar over his skin. "Shh, I'm here, I'm right here," Bilbo murmured. "I just set the oil aside, that's all."

"Need you," Thorin murmured, not even caring right now if he sounded pathetic or not. Bilbo wasn't going to judge him, anyway. "Don't care how, just please…"

"Patience, my love." Bilbo's lips met his in a brief kiss, his hand lingering on Thorin's chest. Then his other hand was on Thorin's cock, warm and slick, bringing it to full attention with just a couple of strokes. This, this was so much better, though really Thorin would have been perfectly content with just the hand over his chest.

Well, okay, so he was very happy for the cock part, too.

Bilbo's hands moved away, then, but Thorin didn't even have time to protest before Bilbo was straddling his hips, his legs warm at Thorin's sides as his hand reached down for Thorin's cock again. He could feel Bilbo pressing against him, and then he was sliding inside, Bilbo sinking down at an agonising pace. Thorin might have tried to move his hips up to meet Bilbo, but he doubted that was Bilbo's intention, and besides his range of movement was rather limited by his position, anyway.

After what seemed like forever Bilbo was fully seated, resting against Thorin's hips for a moment. "Feels good," he murmured, his voice low and husky in the way it only ever got in bed. "You always feel so good inside me…"

"It's because that's where I belong," Thorin managed to say, somewhat surprised at his continued coherence against all odds. "I'm part of you, Bilbo, you are a part of me. It's only right for us to be joined."

"You're right, of course." Bilbo's hands settled on Thorin's chest, bracing there before he drew himself up, sliding against Thorin's cock at that same tortuously slow pace. When he sank down again, faster this time, it stole away Thorin's breath, making him feel almost dizzy. Or perhaps that was just Bilbo, he wasn't sure.

They'd done this before, of course, Bilbo riding him until they both found their completion, yet this was different. Thorin longed to settle his hands on Bilbo's hips, to run them along his thighs, wanted to see his flushed face and the head thrown back in pleasured abandon. Instead all he got were the sounds Bilbo made, the gasps and groans and the occasional murmured word as skin moved against skin, he got the sensation of plump thighs bracketing Thorin's own leaner hips and waist as Bilbo's heat swallowed Thorin's cock again and again. Bilbo's hands were on his chest, pressing down to various degrees as Bilbo leaned forward at times, small fingers clutching at the curly hair and scratching at the skin. At one point Bilbo's fingertip tugged at one of Thorin's nipple rings just as Bilbo slammed his hips down on Thorin's cock, and for all that his eyes might have been bound to darkness, for a moment all he could see was white.

"Come for me, Thorin," Bilbo murmured, his voice like dripping honey, warm and sweet and filling Thorin with a low buzz of energy. "Let me see how beautiful you are…"

"I… I can't," Thorin gasped, his hips jerking up to meet Bilbo's in a vain attempt for more contact. "I need to see you…" His voice cracked at the end, just a little, and for all that he wasn't proud of such vulnerability, he also wasn't afraid to show it. Not now, not here, not with Bilbo. Bilbo would not take advantage of his weakness.

"Oh, Thorin." Bilbo's voice got softer, now, and he shifted a little, hands sliding along Thorin's chest. One of them brushed against the side of Thorin's face, and it wasn't until Bilbo's fingertips slid along his cheek that he realised there were tears running down into his beard. "Thorin, my love, anything you need…"

The blindfold slid off easily enough as Bilbo pushed it up to his forehead and away from his eyes. Thorin blinked, even the soft firelight in the room seeming exceedingly bright after the enforced darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he found himself looking to Bilbo, who was sitting upright again, a flush covering his cheeks and spreading down over his chest. Bilbo's cock was standing proud and dark against his pudgy stomach, the light from the fireplace casting a soft halo around his head as it danced and flickered in his curly hair, gleaming off the gold ring on one leaf-like ear.

Bilbo's eyes fell shut as he sank down again with a soft moan, his lips parted around the sound, and that was all it took for Thorin. His body arched, his heels pressing against the bed as he jerked up into Bilbo, spilling himself deep inside his lovely hobbit. Thorin heard a cry and realised belatedly that it was him, his voice calling out Bilbo's name as he reached his climax.

Thorin was fairly sure Bilbo followed him over the edge only a moment later, heard Bilbo's voice cry out and felt the clenching around himself, but all that was a distant echo, barely enough to reach him over the insistent thumping of his heart. He wasn't even sure he felt the bed or the cuffs anymore, floating in nothingness as his sweat cooled on his skin, the sticky wax seal at his side contrasting with the cold, hard steel on the inside of his collar. Those were his grounding points, the only things he was aware of as everything else faded away, leaving him with nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat and the blood rushing in his ears.

He had a vague sensation that Bilbo was moving around him, felt distantly as the cuffs were taken off one by one, a damp cloth wiping down his wrecked body before Bilbo carefully nudged his arms and legs closer to his body. It was Bilbo's hand in his hair that finally brought him back to reality, running through his locks in a soothing manner while Bilbo hummed something next to him, low, soothing sounds that allowed him to return slowly instead of demanding his attention at once. Bilbo knew by now that it sometimes took Thorin a moment to return to himself when he was truly spent, and had found the best ways of dealing with that.

Slowly the feeling of distance faded, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion that pressed him against the bed, his body far too real all of a sudden. Bilbo was right next to him, pressed against his side like a content cat, naked as the day he was born and without a care of the world. As he noticed Thorin finally turning an actually comprehending gaze toward him, Bilbo smiled.

"You seem tired," he murmured, because sometimes Bilbo loved stating the obvious. "How about we get some sleep?"

"That might not be a bad idea." In fact, that sounded like a downright blessing. Thorin was tired in a way that had little to do with physical exertion.

"We'll have to move, though. Need to get beneath the covers, at least, or we'll be quite cold as we cool down." Then, not even waiting for Thorin to answer, Bilbo nudged him until he'd moved enough that Bilbo could somehow manoeuvre at least some of their blankets from underneath him, spreading them over them both. Bilbo curled up against Thorin's side, head resting on Thorin's broad chest, and gave a contented sigh as Thorin reached an arm around him.

Thorin fell asleep to the sound of Bilbo's soft breaths next to him, knowing precisely where and to whom he belonged.

It wasn't a bad thing, being the king to a rather expert burglar.

It was an even better thing to belong to one who loved him so.


End file.
